SABR
by wolfingbears
Summary: My own rendition of the RWBY universe, with unique characters, teams, and a Beacon set after the events of the series. It's a parallel timeline, and was begun before the plot twists of Season 3 kicked in. The story revolves around Team SABR, their life at Beacon, and the adventure they inevitably get drawn into.
**I – The Lightning Dodger**

 _Amber_

The crowd was restless, on the edge of their seats. Combat training, particularly live sparring, never ceased to draw in the students of Beacon Academy, and today was no exception. As she slipped down from the seating herself, and slipped her cleaver from its spot over her back, Amber looked at the guy who'd challenged her to a one-on-one. He was twitchy, jittering slightly. She felt a slight smile touch her lips. Tall, built along finer lines rather than bulkier ones, this Dodger character watched her approach, a supreme lack of concern on his face. He stepped closer, raising his hands and beckoning her, challenging her to attack. His falchion was still sheathed over his back, and he made no move to draw it.

Amber hefted her blade, tilted her head, flicked a stray blonde tendril of hair out of her eye.

Then she sprang.

Usually, her speed surprised her opponents, and although Dodger's eyes did widen, he merely slid just out of range. His falchion was in his hand before she could so much as blink. That kind of speed... wasn't natural. It was all Amber could do to lean back, slip the slightly curved blade. She slashed at his legs, but he flipped easily over it, whipped his sword down at her, forcing her to raise her arm. It skated off her tight-fitting, reinforced gauntlet. She shoulder-charged him, but he spun out of the way _again_ , falchion dancing in rapid, whipping strikes. Amber slipped one, deflected another with her gauntlet, then finally managed to raise her own weapon to deflect some of the pressure. For all his speed, he still hit incredibly hard. He was already overwhelming her, using his reach and footwork to dance out of range, cut at her. Strikes hit her, pain flashed. Amber needed to change tactics – he already had her on the defensive, barely surviving his onslaught. She swung her blade, forced him to jump back. The missed swing gave her more momentum – she jumped, spinning, and then lunged. Dodger dived into a roll, narrowly slipping her huge strike. The cleaver buried itself into the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, Amber saw that now-infuriating curved blade whirring back towards her. She caught hold of Gutterball's hilt, activated the hidden trigger. A high-power cannon round exploded from the hidden gun. The recoil turned her into a wrecking ball, smashing into the speedster. She lost her weapon as they slid across the polished floor, tangling up with each other. Dodger twisted, fast, trying to snake away from her, get his falchion free.

"Oh, no you don't," Amber growled.

He shot an elbow at her. It slid off her head, and she sank a punch into his ribs. He flinched, crumpling under it, and she hammered him, raining fists and elbows down on him. He slipped a few, caught others on his gauntlets, but more than a few were slipping through, smacking his head against the ground. Amber could feel her satisfaction building. She moved, catching him by the armour, and then twisting, flinging him up into the air, flailing. Joining her hands, Amber swung them together with all her strength, hitting Dodger as he was halfway to the ground. The blue-haired speedster spun and tumbled across the floor. As Amber leapt for Gutterball, still lying on the floor, she saw a spark of lightning crackle around Dodger as he stood up, swaying a little. Then he was gone.

"All right, you want to play like that?" he asked, voice mocking in her ear.

She swung, trying to beat him down with Gutterball, but he wasn't there.

"Let's play, little lady." His sword cut into her leg, staggering her.

A knee smashed into her chest, immediately followed by a spinning kick that sent her staggering for balance. But she couldn't even get _that_ far – his falchion was already smashing down on her arm, slicing her weapon from her hand with almost contemptuous ease. Amber raised her hands, but his weapon raked across her ribs, making her stagger, trying to recover. He was relentless, a lightning-storm of flowing, random strikes, humming with electricity. She could smell ozone in the air as he pounded her. It was all she could do to track his movement, maybe duck the odd strike. He was a blur of blade and blue and lightning and she couldn't see him. And she couldn't hit what she couldn't see. Dodger kicked her gut, and then sprang into the air, somersaulting, his boot connecting with the back of her head and forcing her to her hands and knees. A knee slammed into her back, shoving her into the cold, polished floor. A hand grabbed her hair, and bared her throat. A cold, razor edge settled against her flesh, and she grimaced as the blade bit hard.

"Game over," he told her, a smirk in his voice.

The bell for the end of the bout sounded, and Dodger moved, taking his knee off her spine, withdrawing his sword and sheathing it over his back. Amber felt a numb, sinking feeling overtake her. She'd just lost. True, he was a second-year student, but no one was that fast. _No one._ She watched him trade grins and fist bumps with his team, and then turned her head, looking at Gutterball, her weapon, lying just within arm's reach. A single shot from the barrel would've been enough to spin him off her. Cut fingers were better than a cut throat. She looked down at herself as she sat up. Her clothes were sliced all over, criss-crossing. Amber straightened up, and then scooped up Gutterball, letting it slide back into its holster. Fighting back a huge tide of disappointment, she made her way over towards her opponent and his team.

They noticeably stiffened as she approached, but Amber forced a smile and held out her hand.

"Good fight," she offered.

He considered her for a moment. "You shouldn't rely so much on strength."

"I don't," Amber told him, and gritted her teeth as his team chuckled.

"Well, it's why you lost, kid. Next time, try and fight less like a berserker."

"Next time, I won't lose," she told him quietly.

The conviction in her voice made him pause.

"We'll see," he said, and clasped her hand.


End file.
